I spent some time, as an undergraduate philosophy student, wrestling with Descartes’s argument about the evil genius. Today’s young things (including N° 1 sprog, now studying philosophy) have the likes of Peter Weir’s 1998 film, The Truman Show, or The Matrix, to help them grapple with such concepts as the mind-body problem. Until his thirtieth year Truman Burbank, played by Jim Carrey, lives a reality which, although entirely convincing to him, is a complete fabrication, the creation of an innovative television reality programme producer, Christof (played by Ed Harris). Without over-egging the pudding, the film’s philosophical underpinnings can be traced as far back as Thomas More’s Utopia, but Weir famously did not want the script to be heavy and as viewers we don’t feel too awkward about the fact that, for example, we are double voyeurs – of the Truman Show, but also of the reactions and emotions of those watching the Show. It’s a clever film but, thanks to Weir’s direction and Carrey’s acting, it wears its learning lightly. Even so, the film has given rise to its own, clinically diagnosed, delusional syndrome; now there’s fame for you!